


a little less conversation

by pleurer



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Peter is 18, Pollen Makes Victim Say Everything They're Thinking, Truth Serum, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-06 18:04:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20511230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleurer/pseuds/pleurer
Summary: Despite Wade’s grand delusions of being partners in crime, he knows that Spider-Man mostly just tolerates him at best. But then Peter gets hit with some truth pollen, and, well. Wade did not see this coming.





	a little less conversation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celtic7irish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/gifts).

> This is for the freeform tag 'Pollen makes victim say everything they’re thinking.' I hope you enjoy this treat!
> 
> The brackets in the fic denote Wade’s thought boxes.

The mission starts out well. They’ve cornered their targets on top of a building, and are in the process of knocking out most of them. This time, it’s some punks with illegal drugs— low-level criminals, a chance for the Avengers to test the waters and see if Wade’s actually worthy of joining them. Naturally, they send Spidey along as a chaperone. 

Wade doesn’t mind it. In fact, he thanks all the deities for his godsent partner in crime. The  _ real  _ crime, Wade thinks, is that he can’t tap that ass right here and now. Petey’s got a recent suit upgrade from Iron Sugar Daddy, and his ass looks phenomenal in it. 

Wade’s probably a little  _ too  _ distracted, because by the time he notices the last of the delinquents has snuck up on him, it’s too late. The kid grins smugly as he spritzes him with a can of some sweet-smelling, powdery substance— damn, the world of drugs sure expanded after Wade left it. But then, in a cliche cinematic slow-mo moment, Peter jumps in front of Wade and gets hit with the substance.

It looks like pollen, but pink. And apparently it’s strong enough that it goes through Pete’s mask, because he starts coughing and staggers in place. 

“You really didn’t need to do that, baby boy,” says Wade. “I mean, I’m flattered that chivalry’s not dead and all, but I’m no damsel in distress, and I don’t have a pollen allergy, unlike you. I got this.” 

Wade catches Peter’s waist with one arm, and roundhouse-kicks the little punk right in his snotty face while holding onto Spidey, in a super-cool heroic move that’s totally action-movie worthy. 

(Take notes, Deadpool 3!)

[Make sure Spidey’s being carried bridal-style. The Spideypool fans in the theatres will freak.]

“That’s what you get for fucking with Spideypool,” says Wade. Ooh, a cool team name that he just came up with on the fly. Totally not supplied to him by his fourth-wall breaking boxes.

The guy drops his can of whatever, quickly bends over to pick it up and flees, ditching all his unconscious friends and holding his bleeding face as he runs, tail between his legs. Wade contemplates drawing out his swords and just slicing him in half, but then Peter stumbles out of Wade’s grasp and says, “Don’t kill him! I’m fine. Karen, what was that?” He coughs into his hand to punctuate the statement. 

“The substance appears to be a truth pollen,” says Karen the suit lady with her robotic female voice. Wade would totally hit that if she had a body. It’s always the ones that appear serious that are actually really kinky. 

“Wait, what the hell’s that?” says Wade, snapping back to the situation at hand. “Truth pollen?”

“Yes,” Karen confirms. “A pollen that forces its victim to tell the truth. The effects could last anywhere from one to three hours, and there is no known cure.”

“Oh God,” says Peter, covering his face in his hands, which there’s no point in doing, since his mask’s still on. “Oh, no. This is bad. I gotta go.”

“What? We had a brunch date after this,” says Wade, pouting a little. “Come on, babe, I can handle the truth. It’s not like I don’t already know what you really think of me, and  _ that  _ hasn’t helped you get rid of me.” He winks, not that Pete can see through the suit, and shoots him some finger guns. 

“No, Wade,” says Peter. “You really don’t know what I think of you, or else you wouldn’t keep calling our hangouts  _ dates.” _

“Is this your way of rejecting me?” says Wade. He throws an arm over Peter’s shoulder. “I told you, sweetcheeks. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Kind of wish I could, to be honest,” says Peter, pushing his arm off, and ouch, okay, Wade had it coming, but it still stings. He’s always known that despite their team moniker, despite Wade’s grand delusions of being partners in crime, Spider-Man mostly just tolerates him at best. But hey, Wade’s got pretty low standards. So long as a pretty creature like that manages to look him in the eye occasionally, he’ll be down. And as far as pretty creatures go, it’s hard to find one as genuine and golden as Spidey.

Peter slaps a hand over his masked face. “Ugh. See, this is why I didn’t want to do this. Everything’s coming out all wrong. I’m not rejecting you, okay? I always like having you around, Wade. I like it too much. That’s why I need you to chill out on the casual flirting.” 

Wade quirks an eyebrow up and crosses his arms. “Too much? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Peter huffs out a frustrated sigh. “You’re a good guy, Wade. You’ve got as many good qualities as you do defense mechanisms— and I totally get that, because I’ve been through some shit myself. But one of those mechanisms happens to be casual flirting, and I know it’s just something you do and that you don’t  _ actually  _ mean it. But the thing is—” He sucks in a breath. “I actually  _ am  _ attracted to you. Like, inside and out. And that’s why I always act like I don’t care, because as soon as I actually give in and this becomes a thing, then what happens when I want something more than you do? It’ll just— it’ll fuck up our friendship, and I don’t want that. I can’t lose you, Wade. You’re too important to me.”

Wow. 

(Wow.)

_ [Wow.] _

It’s pretty rare that Wade’s boxes get stunned into silence like this. Trust Peter to be the only one who could manage to do that. 

“Well, shit,” says Wade, because his heart’s beating too damn fast to come up with a coherent remark. Instinct has him going for a quip. “That is some top-tier word vomit if I’ve ever seen any.”

Peter looks stricken. Wade wishes he could take it back. “I’m sorry,” says Peter, sounding strained and helpless. “I’m really sorry for dumping all this on you. God, I don’t know what I was thinking. I— I gotta go.” 

Then he backflips off the edge of the building and disappears.

-

(You know what the best thing to do in this situation is?)

[What?]

(Never talk to him again and wallow in your own self-pity because you don’t deserve him and he could do better. That’d make for a great 50,000 word unrequited pining fanfic.)

“Oh, shut up,” says Wade to himself. Some passerby on the street stops and stares. He’s gotten used to the looks, both in and out of his Deadpool outfit, and he actually greatly prefers the looks he gets when he’s suited up. “I don’t give a shit about word count, okay?” he tells his boxes. “I’m going to figure this the fuck out, because this is not that type of fanfic.” 

[Yeah, but what it  _ really  _ should have been is a sex pollen fanfic. Why couldn’t it have been sex pollen?!]

Wade pointedly ignores his boxes and goes through his options. He could— yeah, he could never speak to Peter again and pretend this never happened, but he’s way too opportunistic for that. Now that he knows Petey actually  _ is  _ DTF, he can’t pass up the chance to stick his hotdog in those buns at least once.

Wade drags his hands over his face. Fuck. Peter was right about the flirting and casual sex being a defense mechanism.  _ What happens when I want something more than you do?  _ Peter had the guts to ask. As if Peter could want anything more than what Wade really wanted from him, which was everything.

As chance would have it, when Wade looks up again, he sees the dude with the pollen. The dude looks back at him, face blanching in recognition. He turns the other way in a hurried sprint. 

“Aha,” says Wade. “I got you, you little turd. You’re not going anywhere.”

He chases down the guy and has him pinned to the ground in no time. 

“Please, let me go,” the kid begs. “I just wanted to stir up some trouble. I didn’t want to do no harm.”

“Okay, squirt,” says Wade. “I’ll give you a chance to do the opposite of harm. Be my personal Oprah for a sec, would you? Tell me— what would you do if the guy you wanted to fuck was also into you, but you lowkey have commitment issues that you really don’t want to force onto him, but he’s also like,  _ super  _ hot and you’re not sure if you can pass up this chance?” 

“What?” says the kid, voice muffled against the concrete sidewalk. 

“You suck at this, man,” says Wade. “Screw it, I’ve got a better idea.” He snatches the canister of pollen out of the kid’s hand and sprays it onto himself. Then he gets off the kid’s back and sprints away. He’s got somewhere to be.

-

He smashes in through Peter’s apartment window for dramatic effect. He does an epic front flip (the way to a man’s heart is through parkour— that’s how Peter caught Wade, after all) and lands coolly in a squatting pose in front of Peter, who’s changed out of his suit and into his ratty old NYC shirt and pajama pants. 

“You look hot,” says Wade, and the worst thing is, he means it. Peter has never looked better, mask off, hair messy, oversized clothes doing nothing for his slender and athletic build. And yet, all Wade can think about is kissing him, slow and sweet, messing that hair up even more.

“Wade, I told you to stop doing that,” says Peter, frowning. “You know I can’t afford the repair costs.”

“Oh, the window?” says Wade. He stands up and brushes himself off. Several shards of glass fall off his suit and onto the floor, and he sweeps them aside with his foot. “Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it in sexual favours. You’d be getting your money’s worth for sure. I give some damn good head.”

“I told you to stop doing  _ that,  _ too,” says Peter. He looks away, jaw clenched. His eyes look tired. 

Wade pulls off his mask, because this feels like it should be a mask-less conversation. He rests a hand gently on Peter’s arm to get Peter to look at him again, and when Peter does, Wade holds up the can of pollen. 

“I sprayed it onto myself on my way here,” says Wade. “So you know that what you’re getting is the truth.”

Peter’s eyes go wide. “What’d you do that for?”

“For this,” says Wade, and then he leans in and presses his lips to Peter’s. 

For a moment, Peter is very still. His lips are warm, soft. Wade tests the waters, moves against Peter’s mouth a little bit, but Peter doesn’t respond, so he pulls away.

“Oh my God,” says Peter, eyes impossibly wide. “Wade—I—  _ what? _ ”

“Okay, so not how I pictured our first kiss,” Wade blurts out. “I was actually hoping you’d be hanging upside down from the ceiling, like the classic Tobey Macguire movies— whatever, you wouldn’t know what I’m talking about. But what I want to say is this.” 

Wade grabs Peter by the shoulders and looks him in the eyes, as serious as he can. “I like you, Peter. A hell of a lot more than I should, and a hell of a lot more than I let on. You’re right about the flirting being a defense mechanism. I guess I thought that if I pretended it was casual, then you wouldn’t figure out I was actually head over heels. You’re brilliant, you’re sexy, you could bench press me any day and I’d get off on that, and when you look at me, it makes me want to try to be the person you see in me. And I’m scared shitless of how badly I want this.” Wade laughs dryly. For all that he never shuts up, he’s never felt quite so much like he was laying his ugly, roughed-up heart on the table. “God, I should really shut the fuck up now, but I physically can’t. How about you shut me up with a kiss instead?”

Peter blinks at him, stunned, eyes full of an emotion Wade normally wouldn’t dare to place. But he’s feeling daring today, so he’ll call it what it probably, hopefully is— affection. 

“That is some top-tier word vomit if I’ve ever seen any,” says Peter with a grin. Asshole. “But okay, Wade. A kiss sounds good.”

Peter kisses Wade again, this time with so much passion that Wade doesn’t know how to respond. Peter’s body’s pressed right up to his, hands wrapped around the back of his neck to pull him in closer, his tongue doing downright illegal things and drawing a moan out of Wade. 

(Hooooly shit.)

[This can’t be real.]

But it  _ is  _ real, and so Wade responds in kind, curling his hands in Peter’s hair and kissing back with all the passion he’s been trying to rein back, letting it flow free. 

When they finally pull apart to breathe, Peter’s lips are swollen and pink, his cheeks dusted with the same delightful shade. 

“So,” says Peter. “Please tell me a kiss wasn’t all you wanted, because I don’t really want to stop here, when you’ve been ogling my ass for the past year.”

“Oh, honey, no,” says Wade. “I wouldn’t dream of stopping here.” 

Peter takes his hand, playful spark glinting in his eyes, and leads him into the bedroom.

(Get it, Parker.)

[Looks like we finally get to stick that hotdog in those buns after all!]

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was posted anonymously for a fic exchange on 9/20, and has now been redated for author reveals.


End file.
